What If?
by writergirl97
Summary: A fluffy/slightly angsty PhilXSarah fic. Gotta love 'em!


"Hey, where's your girlfriend?" It was mid-morning on a Saturday when Zach yawned and padded into the kitchen where his little brother Phil was. This question caught the younger one by surprise, whose jelly bean green eyes flew up to meet his sibling's. Phil was in the middle of staring moodily into his cereal (no surprise) when he got interrupted by that _ridiculous_ question.

"One, she's not my girlfriend. Two, she's in the drama club, so she's probably at rehearsal. She's coming over after twelve. _As you already know_." The dark haired child hissed the last line, to the amusement of the elder.

"How'd you know I meant Sarah?" He had smirked as if he had actually gotten Phil on that one. Idiot.

"Who else would you have meant? She's the only girl I hang out with."

"And why is that?" As the taller of the two grabbed an apple and pulled out a chair to sit down in, his cell phone buzzed and he knew it was his _own_ girlfriend, Sophie.

"Because she's different. She isn't stuck up in fashion and gossip and romance like the rest of them." _But she _does_ have her moments_, he silently added in his mind.

"Those are the words of a man who is in love." Zach persisted relentlessly. Phil's spoon plopped into the bowl in a fit of anger and his chair squealed as he suddenly stood up.

"I don't have time for this." The eleven year old nearly ran into his other brother Ham as he rushed out of the kitchen.

"Just admit it already!" Was Zach's last comment as Philip thundered up the stairs and this time actually crashing into his father.

"Whoa, what's the rush?" The football-head asked his son with worry knitting his eye brows. The similar colored eyes attempted to search his child's, but to no avail.

"I don't want to talk about it," Was snapped through gritted teeth as he ducked past his father. He finished the stairs and turned down the hall and straight into his room. The door slammed shut and his anger eased only slightly. He was literally seething as he paced his room. After a long moment did he finally realize that _someone else was in the room_. He turned to look the blonde right in the eye. Her hair was soft and full around her face and her usual angry face was peaceful and sympathetic as she stared down her son.

"Mom. What are you doing in here?"

"Waiting for you. I heard what Zach was saying and knew it was only a matter of time." She shrugged and glided over to where Phil was standing. "I know—"

"What! What do you know! Please, the audience is awaiting." The biting comment cut through Helga's easy tone like a knife. She adopted a similar tone when she replied:

"Well, if you didn't interrupt me, I would've been done by now." She took a breath and closed her eyes for a moment before returning to her original pitch. "Maybe what I was going to say would have fallen on deaf ears. All that I was going to say was, don't make the same mistake I almost made." With that, the once Pataki swiveled on her foot and marched to the door.

"And what's that?" Suspicion leaked in the boy's tone and his mother paused and with a smirk, half turned to him before the door.

"Waiting until it was almost late."

"To do what?"

A wistful look shadowed blue eyes as Helga opened the door and went past the threshold. "You know." After the whispered words hit the boy, the door silently closed.

Phil was reeling. What had she…? No. What she hinted at wasn't Phil's secret feelings, was it? No, because Phil _didn't_ have any secret feelings! He was a heartless, soulless being who didn't care for anything or any one. Except…. Maybe the girl with charcoal hair and golden eyes…..

Phil shook his head and went to blast Metallica and drown out his thoughts.

Hours later, a pretty girl clad in a simple, elegant yellow shirt and dark blue jeans sauntered into the eleven year old boy's room. As soon as she did and the door was closed, she was forced back upon it by a boy with dark brown hair and burning green eyes.

He pressed their foreheads and noses together so that when they spoke, their lips would brush. "What would you do right now if I told you that I was in love with you?" Philip's deepened voice made Sarah's stomach wrestle with its self and a light feathery feeling flit across her chest.

"I'd ask if you were lying." That was the closest thing to what escaped her lips, since it was a complete whisper, you couldn't be sure she said it.

"What if I wasn't?" Phil's arms that were encasing Sarah on both sides, slithered to around her waist so that now her body was pressed up against him tightly. Her breathing hitched and the girl's face felt as though a wildfire were raging across it.

"Well, I'd tell you that I've been in love with you for a long time now." Her words caught in her throat as her love rubbed noses with her and was nearly humming with happiness. "Then I'd say stop with the 'what if's and kiss me already."

And happily, he obliged.


End file.
